Chapter 8
BONES
I spot Mia’s cherry-red Super Beetle in front of the garage.
My gift to her. The first of many. I rebuilt the engine last summer.
In between fights at the Circle, helping with the Blackwell gin business, and terrorizing our little lamb into submission, it’s amazing I was able to tinker around in the garage at all.
It’s like therapy. If I can’t build stuff and get my hands dirty, then I’ll only feel more splintered and jagged than I already am.
I catch a whiff of jasmine before I’m even through the front door.
“I hope you haven’t been waiting long, mi amor,” I call out as I waltz into the main shop area.
My apartment is above it, but the whole garage is lived in.
Empty beer bottles lie scattered around crumpled-up magazines and rolled-up sweatpants.
I might not be as organized as Dray and Ries but I’m still just as intoxicating. Even in my mess.
I don’t hear Mia’s response, so I trot upstairs, guessing she’s too focused on raiding my mini bar. “Sorry I kept you, love. Lettie and I got caught up over at—”
Jesus. What the fuck? “Mia?” My voice cracks as the air in my lungs whooshes. My heart skips a beat, and my stomach knots.
She’s sat in my favorite leather recliner, naked, her eyes pitch-black and focused ahead. I wave my hand in front of her face, but she doesn’t blink.
“Mia?” I whisper.
The rise and fall of her chest is subtle. So gentle, it takes me a few moments to confirm she’s still breathing. Upon first glance, she looks frozen. As if Medusa herself challenged her to a staring contest.
Black ink prints in the shape of fingertips dot the flesh around her neck and chest. Farther down, larger streaks adorn her hips and thighs. Fucking hell. The scent of rot is pungent. It makes me gag.
“What the actual fuck is happening?” I ask. Her lips quiver. Barely. Another subtle movement that anyone else would’ve missed. But I don’t. Nothing gets by me. Not a damn fucking thing. Not since the night I lost my baby brother. I vowed to never slip up again. So now I’m an expert in observation.
I dial the landline at Harker Mansion, my hands shaking. But I don’t dare take my eyes off her. My love… she looks like a beautiful black swan, petrified like wood, immovable stone and rock.
“What’s happened?” Nox asks, his voice dark and commanding. His timbre suggests he senses something is wrong.
I swallow hard, my mouth dry. “I-I don’t know. I just found her like this…”
“Like how. Answer me. Now.” His tail cracks the air like a whip. It smashes the silence between us.
I wiggle my fingers in the space she’s staring at again. “Her eyes are black. It’s like she’s in a trance or something. There’s ink all over her body. What do I do?” A question I haven’t asked in a long fucking time.
“That’s not ink. You need to wake her up. But carefully. Draw a bath, lukewarm water only, not cold, not hot. Fill it only halfway so that it’s waist-deep… And add as much salt to it as you can find.”
Panic fills me as I watch her chest fall even slower. “Can’t you come here and help me, bro? What if I fuck this up? Nox, please…”
He clicks his tongue. “No. I’ve been unable to leave. I don’t know why. The house won’t let me. Don’t tell the others. Not yet. You have to wake her up, Bones. She’s in a new nightmare. This one could kill her.”
Fucking hell. What? “You can’t leave Harker Mansion? Why haven’t you told us? This isn’t good. This is so fucking bad.”
“Bones, focus.” His voice is sharp and rough like gravel. Monstrous. It fills the void of this entire room without him even physically being here.
“Fuck. All right. Give me a second.” I run to the bathroom and turn on the hot and cold faucets in my brass tub, careful to mix them accordingly.
I quickly dump an entire bag of salt in.
Luckily, I’m no stranger to soaking in the stuff after a fight, so it was already in the cabinet under the sink. “The bath is coming. What else?”
He sighs into the phone. “You need bloodroot. A few petals is all. Put them in her mouth to shock her body back to this plane.”
Sweat pours down my neck. I shut off the water once it’s halfway filled the tub. I search frantically around the room for nothing. As if this mysterious flower is going to take root and bloom before my very eyes in this apartment.
“And where the fuck am I supposed to find that, Nox? Can’t I just shake her or dunk her head underwater?”
“No! Don’t do that. That could stop her heart. The poison provides a blanket, a shield between worlds. It will jolt her back without completely destroying whatever sanity she might have left.” The sound of Nox pacing back and forth echoes through the line. “Call Aries. He must have some.”
“Aries is busy, Nox. He won’t answer his phone until after he’s done offing one of his father’s clients.
It’s like this new thing he’s into. It doesn’t matter.
Fuck… I’ll search the apothecary. He labels everything.
” I fly back into the living room to see Mia arching her back.
She writhes against the chair, her body contorting.
“Mia? You’re scaring me,” I call out.
“She can’t hear you. Get the poison fast before she slips even farther away. Put her in the tub. Use something to secure her to it. Call me back when it’s done.” He hangs up without another word.
What in the actual fuck? I guess he figures he’s only distracting me at this point. I run back over to Mia and scoop her up into my arms. A raspy moan unfurls from her throat. A wounded kind of sound, not a pleasurable one.
“Shhh, I got you. It’s gonna be okay. I’m going to take care of you, mi amor.” I place her gently in the bath.
The second her skin hits the saltwater, she revolts. I hold her steady. “Calm down, baby girl. I’m trying to help you.”
Her chest heaves a few more times before slowing down again.
She stills, and her blackened gaze hardens, laser-focused on nothing but the space in front of her.
I fetch restraints from my BDSM toy box, long corded ropes with leather clasps.
I fasten them around her ankles and wrists before tying each end to the various clawed feet of the tub.
I give it enough slack for her to sit comfortably, but tight enough to keep her from slipping under. Even if the water is only waist-deep, she’s unhinged, and the last thing I need to fucking worry about is her drowning before I can save her from losing her mind.
“I’ll be back soon, mi amor. Don’t you dare fucking die on me.” I haven’t been this scared since the night we all waited up for her to return from the Wishing Tree.
I take my bike because I can get to the apothecary faster on it.
The headlights create shadows on the road that look like ferocious creatures.
This town is more sinister at night, vile in its barrenness.
In its haunted skies. You can’t see it as well during the day, ironically.
We’re too blinded by the trees and the scattered sunlight.
By the poison meadows and bougainvillea that sprawl across these hallowed grounds.
I try to get Draven on speakerphone on the way there, but he doesn’t pick up. He never does on harvest nights, but I figured it was worth a try. Right about now, there’s a good chance he’s down in the cellar of Blackwell Manor, tapping casks of gin and preserving juniper berries for his next batch.
But he’s going to freak the fuck out when he comes back up and checks his messages. Hopefully I’ll have this all fixed by then.
Thorn Apothecary is nestled in the northern part of town, near Devil’s Rock. I punch in the code as fast as I can and storm through the double steel doors. Taking the circular staircase two steps at a time, I barrel down to the depths of the fragrant warehouse.
I nearly choke when the fumes hit me. While I’m immune to poison like the others, the sheer amount of it that’s housed inside this place is enough to make even a Thorn hitch their breath. It takes me a minute to adjust.
I pull the neck of my T-shirt up and cover my nose and mouth as I race through the rows and rows of plants. There are hundreds, maybe even thousands, of strains. Luckily, my Ries tells me everything, and I pay attention.
A normal person would place them alphabetically or maybe group them by plant family.
But Aries is anything but, and so he has them all laid out according to strength and potency.
And he’s the only one who really knows which is which.
He’s been studying poisonous plants since he was old enough to walk.
It’s his family’s legacy. His lifeblood.
The only chance I have of finding this bloodroot flower in a respectable amount of time is judging it based on Nox’s reaction. I can only guess that it’s powerful, toxic as fuck, and rare. Which means Aries would’ve placed it on one of the back rows, near the far wall.
The farther back I go, the headier the scents and the dizzier I get. The fumes are overwhelming. But I keep going. I need to help her.
I scan through the labels—opium, baneberry, nightshade, and belladonna. Sweat drips down my face, and it feels like fire. Like hot fucking lava.
I finally find the bloodroot, and it’s not as scary looking as it sounds. In fact, it looks like a daisy, with its bright yellow center and delicate white petals. I reach in, pluck a few out, and transfer them to a glass jar, careful not to crush them.
By the time I make it back outside, the air feels like a sharp knife, slicing my lungs with each breath I take. I hunch over and cough. “Fuck,” I rasp.
I have a newfound respect for Aries. He goes in unmasked all the time. He doesn’t even break a sweat, let alone wheeze his lungs out the way I’m doing right now. There’s immune, and then there are just fucking superpowers. People have no idea what the Thorns are capable of. Holy crap.
I tuck the jar into my leather jacket and jam back over to the garage. Hopefully, I haven’t fucked this up, and it’s not too late.